The storm clouds had been gathering for quite some time, yet I continued to wander aimlessly hoping the storm clouds would clear and the sun would shine brightly once again. I wasn't paying attention to the warning signs and before I knew it I wandered so close to the edge that I fell off. I was very ill and getting sicker every day but I didn't know it. It's a very long way down and an even longer way up out of the darkness.
I've always been the person who could handle everything, strong, smart and independent and when things got really rough I used humor as my ticket out. Humor is a great way to mask pain and anger from the outside world, nobody would believe that a funny person is suffering. Nobody was more shocked than I when the day came that I had had enough, the day I lost total control of my emotions and found myself unable to do anything more than cry uncontrollably...the UGLY cry...and babble incoherently. I don't think I had a single logical thought that day.
That was the day I finally came to the conclusion that I was so depressed that no amount of positive motivation, jokes, or gratitude diaries were going to heal my illness. I always thought that depression was a mood I didn't see it as an actual disease. Since there wasn't a cast, stitches, fever or sniffles how could it be a disease, nobody can see that I am really very sick!
After months, if not years of this slowly progressing illness, I found myself unable to make any decisions, my brain could no longer cope with learning anything new and there was an overwhelming physical exhaustion that no amount of sleep could relieve. I was trapped in a prison of my own complete sadness, in solitary confinement. I didn't want to burden others with my troubles, in fact I wasn't sure I could even pinpoint anything specific enough to describe it. It just WAS.
I am much better now but I live in fear of getting too close to the edge ever again.